Fowl Fandom Boot Camp
by Blue Yeti
Summary: Civil war. A violent catastrophe that leaves no survivors unscathed. The worst thing that could happen to a fandom. Until they found out about Boot Camp. The Fandom has been transported to Neverland, for the craic (and flamingoes), because fighters for t


**Disclaimer:** All authors mentioned in the story below gave their full consent to be included in this fic. The characterizations of individuals would be true to form in an ideal world, but we don't live in an ideal world, do we? I can only characterize reasonably those I know best, namely, those in the Criminality group. Things said about any of the Criminalities is highly likely to be as accurate as a friend can ever make it. Alternatively, I've probably got almost everything wrong about other members of the fandom if I don't know them very well. I regret this, but it's simply reality. I don't know the thoughts or even what really goes on in the 'ff.netters' world; I wish I did, but I don't, and it would probably be very hard for me to find out really. I don't know the dynamics and I don't pretend to know them. Therefore nothing should be looked at for realism, only for symbolism. The Criminalities sections are obviously going to be more detailed, the ff.netters with an obvious lack of any real depth. That's just the way it goes. As it always does: In 'Artemis Fowl Fan Fic Academy' by Spectra16 the character of Blue Yeti, if it was actually me, would have definitely replied to Timmy's comment of "How do you know I have a son?" with '"You just told us, Timmy old boy" said Blue Yeti, more obviously'. Although, possibly a blasphemy added in. I swear a lot. 

This is a work of parody, its intentions are entirely satirical; although, there are some points which are trying to be made and if I was honest they are probably intended more towards my friends (the Criminalities) than towards the ff.netters (everyone else), but anyway, I digress. Any characters mentioned from the Artemis Fowl books are entirely intentional, but they are not mine so don't sue. This is not to be taken seriously and the aspects of the fandom detailed within have often been taken out of context and/or exaggerated for the purpose of this work of fiction. 

**Author's Note:** This is a … personification, if you like, of the rift between aspects of the fandom, which I really believe is only seen by one side and is relatively unknown by the other. Namely, the Criminalities (those who run the Criminality fanfic archive – ) - elitists really, grammar-snobs every one, the types of people who go around correcting others' abused apostrophes - against ff.net and everyone else, who the Criminalities are constantly calling plebes, myself included in the name-calling facilities. 

**FOWL FANDOM BOOT CAMP**

In an instant, an instant in which many inexplicable things, unable to be explained by science, Quantum, or any of the major religions (although, unstrangely, something in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Cultism corresponded) the entire contents of the Artemis Fowl Fandom were transported to Neverland.* 

It wasn't exactly a usual instant when this occurrence decided (by unknown uncertainty principles of course or, possibly, by a committee of white mice) to happen. It was directly related to the positions of the zodiac, and also the positions of the members of said fandom: they were in camouflage greens, lying upon soft green Irish grass that was still (and always) rather wet from recent drizzle. They were facing each other, the rift between fandom entities putting tensions on the delicate balance that all fandoms must strive to achieve, if they're Harry Potter or Obernewtyn. Skye Firebane had parted with a few of the components of her considerable arsenal in order to arm her fellow Criminalities; Spectra16 had ordered the creation of that which her 2IC had discovered to be the most abominable substance to the Criminalities: badly written Mary Sues and humourous scriptfics. 

It wasn't war, but it was George W. Bush putting all the troops in place before permission was granted, it was the knowledge that a battle was inevitable. But, to most, it was not a reality. Things didn't get nasty in an online fandom, nothing more than that flamewar between Big Friendly Walrus and Monkey Queen a few months back. The Criminalities were not overly worried about the outcome of the battle they knew was simmering under the surface, and did not do anything in order to reduce its possible effects; they knew it would all work out, there was no way it could end up with a negative outcome for them, for they did not truly care about the opinions of the 'plebes' and they were sure to convert some on the process, but, obviously, only those who would be good assets. The ff.netters, well, most probably didn't know what it was all about (thought the Criminalities at least) or at least they didn't understand what the problem was. 

So, in essence, it was going to be a fight about nothing, and those, the Criminalities, who would instigate it all would feel that they were in the right, would feel as though they were the ones likely to be victimized soon enough. That was what it was about: the possibilities of conflict. 

But… Then, it wasn't going to be a fight about nothing, because they were in Neverland and the possibilities of the word Never were Never fully explored within Peter Pan, for obvious reasons. A land of Never having to grow up, a land of Never having to go to sleep, a land of Never getting those weapons back until you've talked this through, as best as you possibly could. Or, at least, Never getting those weapons back until you've learnt how to use them properly. 

They were somewhere in the vicinity of Mermaid Lagoon, and upon a cliff high above there was a momentous figure. Then it moved to a position where they weren't so blinded by the sun's light and saw it wasn't a momentous, Butler-like figure: it was Grub Kelp, who was really rather weedy and small. 

"Ahoy, down there! Are you from the AF fandom?" Called Grub, staying a bit away from the edge because he had always been scared of heights. 

The two groups, now separated by a lagoon, looked at each other, Spectra16 daring Skye Firebane to do something, Skye Firebane raising a well-trained eyebrow in her direction before making a mental note about enacting bloody revenge in the near future. 

Slime Frog rolled her eyes and stepped from her position to the side of the two opposing forces, which, incidentally, had landed her and a (rather lone) male on a small rocky island in the middle of the lagoon where they were effectively marooned. "Yes, we are. I'm Slime Frog, and don't worry, I left my alter egos back home, bry's babysitting s.f. but I've got Agent Slime watching them from a car outside. This is PyRo, he's a straight male, and I think there's only 4 of them fandomwide. Um… There's… The ff.netters." She waved an arm to her left, where a large, rather disorganized group stood behind a girl slightly to the front. The most prevalent thought when looking at this fighting force was the average age, something that struck an internal cord until you remembered that 'there is nothing so pure or evil as a child'. "Spectra16's sort of the Unofficial Leader, but only because she's a lot of places and can crack a good joke now and then." 

Slime Frog gave her nose a scratch and continued. "The Criminalities," she waved a hand vaguely to her right, in the direction of the much smaller group, less than ten strong, where the overall look was one of bizarre dissimilar similarity, and the thought that at least they were all older. "They're... there. They run a selective fanfic archive, but they do it badly, since they never get new content up. Um… Kitty Rainbow? She might be the leader." A girl with pink cat ears sticking up from her hair shook her head violently and crushed a green plushy toy to her chest. "Blue Yeti probably writes the most…" An abominable snowman, who was looking rather relaxed for the heat, raised an eyebrow in Slime Frog's direction. Grub Kelp whimpered at the sight of his seasoned torturer, who always seemed to make him mentally handicapped; the only person who did it worse was Eoin Colfer himself. "Well, they're them, and the ff.netters are those and—" 

"And who are you?" There was another person on the clifftop, probably Trouble Kelp. 

"Me and PyRo, and a few others, well, we're sort of… groupless. Sort of. I spent more time at ff.net and all, and I like _everything_, so it sort of makes me neutral. We weren't going to join in the fighting." 

Trouble turned, shrugging towards someone. "Makes as much sense as anything. Well, in that case Slime Frog, PyRo, you can go wherever you'd like. We're in Neverland, by the way, so stay out of the way of Hook and anything which ticks. Ff.netters, follow Foaly. Criminalities, follow Grub." Grub paled. "Oh, no, can't put Grub with the Yeti. But really, can't put the Yeti with anyone. Can't put Kitty with Foaly… Oh dear. Ff.netters, stick with Foaly. Criminalities, I'll take you myself. Grub, you can stay with Slime Frog and PyRo, make sure they don't run into Mr Smee." 

"Where are we going, Trouble?" Called a voice from the crowd of ff.netters. 

"You want to fight. But we can't have the fate of the fandom lying in mostly untrained hands, Ms. Firebane's gore expertise exempted. You're all going to Boot Camp!" 

There were a few gulps from the crowd. 

"Don't worry, it'll all be fine. Well, what are you waiting for! Get _moving_ or it won't be fine!" 

"You've been learning from Beetroot, haven't you?" 

"Does it show?"   


**Slightly South of Indian Rock**  
"Why are we here? How did we actually get here as well? There wasn't a flash of bright light, we didn't end up in a pile of limbs on the ground, and there wasn't even a low-budget blue tunnel like in Stargate." 

Someone shrugged. "Why were we fighting against whoever it was anyway? I only arrived in the fandom three days ago. I haven't even written anything yet. Although I do have a really cool idea for a story where a girl, a genius, comes and tricks Artemis out of his gold, and then he tries to trick her back, but she wins, and then they end up falling in love." 

"Sounds cool, though you should look out for… Nar, don't worry 'bout it, she won't end up as a Mary Sue. Can't." Said another. 

Further up the line, right at the front really, but not close enough for Foaly to be able to hear her, Spectra16 whispered to Nicole: "Do you know who's our sergeant yet?" 

"Sorry, Spectra, I couldn't find out. Foaly gloated a lot without actually saying anything useful. He's rather distracted." 

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Hope it's Butler." 

And there, again backlit by what seemed to be an eternally setting sun, but at least now it was setting in the right direction, was a huge, hulking figure. And it didn't get any smaller, which was both a relief, as they realized that they indeed would go through Boot Camp with a globally acclaimed bodyguard as their tutor and… not a relief, as they realized that 6'11" really is _very_ tall. 

Butler stepped aside as the first of the FF.netters were led into the camp. Opal Koboi was behind (twitching slightly), beside was Root, beside was Timmy, then Holly Short, Chairman Charartez, almost the entire cast of the Artemis Fowl books. Nicole thought she caught a glimpse of Artemis Fowl the Younger up in a spotting tower, but he ducked down, obviously knowing the problems involved if the fangirls below knew he was there. She tucked the knowledge away for future blackmail, should the opportune or need arise. 

"Where are the rest of you? Where's Artemis? Arno Blunt and Spiro aren't here either. I'm not going to Boot Camp if Artemis isn't going to be there." Said one of the many fangirls that drifted in and out of the fandom when their need for vampire blood arose. 

"Arno and Spiro are some of the only people who the Criminalities haven't insulted in some way, all in the name of character development, so they're with them." Said Butler, who grimaced when he said the word 'Criminalities', as if it caused him severe pain. 

"Is Artemis with them as well?" 

"Master Artemis's whereabouts do not concern you." 

"So, what are we going to be doing here, Butler, sir?" 

"We're going to be teaching you how to use the best you have in your arsenal for the fight against the Criminalities. And Root's going to teach you how to _really_ abuse the average dialogue sequence." 

"Are we going to have to do push ups and mile runs? Because I've got asthma." 

"Oh no," Butler grinned, or maybe it was something closer to a smirk, "we can find some much nastier things to keep you in shape. And you'd better beat those Crims, they'll write anything to be able to claim it as first in the fandom. And if you don't…" 

A few poor girls gulped. 

There was a high fence all around, unimaginatively made from wire like tennis court netting with sharp barbs along the top, rather than some exotic force field invented by Foaly. But it still did what it was intended to do, definitely. It kept people in, and kept any rescuers out.   


**Somewhere along the East Coast of the Island**  
"This is all your fault, Blue," said Skye, morosely, poking her 'friend' a few times just below the ribs, just hard enough to break the unspoken barrier of Not Nice. 

They standing to the side of a bare training quadrangle, also surrounded by a very large, very high and very spiky fence. A few Artemis Fowl characters – namely Vinyáya, Angeline, Corporal Newt (who had gotten over his fear of Kitty only because his fear of Root was greater), Arno, Spiro and the (still brainless) Chips and Pex were talking with Captain Trouble. 

"I don't think we even have Juliet." 

"And as if it's _entirely_ my fault?" said Blue Yeti, stuck in a rather viscous form of denial. "Everyone else has written fics where characters have got beaten up slightly, more than emotionally too. Jude. Jude makes them serial killers. And you've done a fair amount to them as well, Skye. Artemis isn't a cheery fellow in your fics. _No one's_ a cheery fellow in your fics. You can't blame it all on me." 

"I think I get out on a technicallity, Blue," remarked Jude. "Mine are almost all Alternate Universe, so they don't count." 

"It doesn't matter which of us insulted the characters, the simply fact is that we've got to go and fight a thousand plebes, and our tutors in the arts are going to be Pex and Chips." 

"Such a positive spin, Ophelia. You're just saying that because you're innocent. You've never done anything horrific to anyone - nothing worse than the Butler thing in the car in Concupiscence." Blue grinned, "I'm quite surprised actually." 

"Who turned Butler?" Added Skywise. "I wrote a great one of Butler." 

"Probably me," said Blue Yeti, sighing and rubbing a hand over her spines, "I've got plans for him in Forty-Two, even though it all ends happily-ever-after. Oh, actually, no it doesn't. Sorry, I forgot." She grinned a little, quite pleased with herself. 

"Maybe we'll have Madame Ko." Said Kitty, painfully hopeful. 

Skye shook her head. "Nopes. Blue decided to make her name Hyacinth." 

"I couldn't think of anything Japanese! And it's a cool name; it's strict, but tells of someone who's that because they weren't allowed to be anything else. Like Hephzibah." 

No one felt the need to comment on what the Yeti considered to be cool names. 

"Well, maybe Juliet…" said Kitty, thinking of all the nice trips Juliet had scored on a motorbike through various parts of Europe. "Has anyone done anything unspeakable to her? Because, generally, I think we've been quite nice." 

"Hmmm… Maybe. I wouldn't count on it though, she might be sticking up for Holly or Butler. Hell, even Artemis." 

"We definitely don't have Foaly," said Biz, not nearly depressed enough, in fact, rather gleeful. 

"Yes, that one's yours. The damn Miracles of Nanotechnology." 

"And the setting up with Kitty continuously." 

"And that." 

There was a universal sigh among the friends. 

"Why weren't we nicer to the characters?" Asked Kitty. "Well, you guys anyway, I haven't written anything worse than Tales of the LEP." 

"Because we didn't expect to be thrust into one of these insertion fics, that's why!" 

"True." A smirk. "It _was_ very fun, though." 

"Agreeance, Skye." 

Blue kicked an ugg-booted foot/paw against the fence. "Fuck this." 

"Well said." 

Trouble cleared his throat, calling them over to the (still depressingly small) group of characters. Instructors? _Drill Sergeants?_

"You know why you're here?" he asked. 

"So we can convert the plebes with correctly placed commas and Concupiscence?" 

He looked at Ophelia, who smiled at him innocently. "Something like that," he conceded. 

"You're staying with us here, Trouble?" asked Kitty. 

"Hell no! I'm rooting for the ff.netters, at least they don't write fics where they give Grub the mind of a 6-year-old human! Or incest." 

"No, they just write Holly/Trouble with no development, logical reasoning or realism. And fics where not even _Artemis_ has a mental capacity higher than a 6-year-old sometimes." That was Skye, again. 

"Good point. Well, I might stay." 

"We'd be very glad if you did, sir." Responded Skywise, with a rather sickly sweet expression for a grown woman upon her face. 

"We'll see. In the meantime…" Trouble turned to Blue Yeti, who swallowed. Trouble smirked, and there was a look in his eye that would not be inaccurately classified as evil. Trouble swung a punch, "That's for Trouble is in Love and it's Not with Holly." Another punch, this time with his left (Blue noted that it was just as powerful as his right, he was obviously ambidextrous and filed this knowledge away for future ficcing, she being the type of beast who did that) "That's for A Grubby Tale." And another, "for Death, and don't you _dare_ make that Trilogy any worse than it already is!" 

"You've got a fine swing, sir," said Blue Yeti, wavering slightly on her feet, Kitty grapping her arm to keep her upright. "Please note that I always make you Root's 2IC." 

"Oh, that just got you another one! I _hate_ high command!" Trouble pulled his right arm back for another punch to the bruises already forming on the Yeti's cheek. 

Juliet caught the fist before it landed and flipped Trouble onto his back. He experienced a rather nauseating flashback to when Butler had wiped out his team on the Fowl Manor lawns. "Didn't your Mammy teach you never to hit girls?" she asked with a smile. 

"Well," said Ophelia, "I guess we do have her." 

Kitty caught her breath at the thought, already formulating the possible icons she could make with t.A.T.u. images. "That means she likes Juliet…" she breathed out. "_SQUEE!!_"   


**Mermaid Lagoon**  
Once everyone had left to go their separate ways to Boot Camp, PyRo looked over at Slime Frog. 

"How do you suppose they expect us to get off this island?" he asked. 

"By flying? By..." she looked down at the water surrounding them - it was a deep blue-green, clear as crystal - and tried to remember the voice of her swim instructor from years ago, "swimming?" 

PyRo glanced up the cliff to where Grub stood, looking down at the fearfully, probably knowing of Slime Frog's songfics. "I suppose we'll have to swim. It's warm enough, we'll dry off quickly." 

But Slime Frog was grinning, looking at some old metal barrels that looked suspiciously like toxic waste in a world that had been conceived before plastic bags and Coca Cola had been invented. "Or we could float across on those giant tins of green and yellow paint." 

PyRo nodded. "Let's do that then." 

*The Transportation may have been the effect of Narrativium, the magically based element that is responsible for events happening in accordance to stories and fairy tales, the coincidence that is always needed for a reasonable story. But, possibly not, because Terry Pratchett may sue me.

* * *

Now, I need gallant volunteers to join Boot Camp. Anyone even moderately interested in seeing their names in print? (On a website, where you already have your name in print, and it's BLUE.) 


End file.
